


Something To Ask

by orphan_account



Series: One Ring [2]
Category: Formula E RPF, Motorsport RPF
Genre: Border Crossing, Leica, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Street Cafe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 04:50:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16010633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The one in which Jeandré get engaged.





	Something To Ask

**Author's Note:**

> Um, so, I went there on a Jeandré engagement fic. I’m sorry. It just…when Jev got back from New York, and they were all cute together for the day, and Jev put a pic of André looking ridiculously happy on his picstagram, and then he put a photo (with André’s aesthetic fist) up of himself looking ridiculously happy with the caption ‘All the reasons to smile’. And then they both went silent for 24hrs, like they were doing more interesting things than posting to Instagram. I’m sorry. I don’t believe in rushing into engagements. This isn’t life advice. Individual results may vary. But they seem happy together, and I wanted to commemorate that with a follow-up from One Ring.

As he waited to be cleared through the border, André watched Jev dozing against the door frame, feeling overwhelmed with tenderness. _He is the most beautiful man in the world. I’m super happy that we get to spend our anniversary together, even if it’s just driving in convoy and calling every now and then_. He pulled out his camera, and captured Jev’s nap. He fiddled with the aperture and shutter settings and changed lenses, getting a close-up of Jev's face. André admired the picture in the viewfinder screen, Jev’s eyes resting shut, his lips relaxed into a pout. _I need to make him mine forever_. The border guard waved André on, and he drove across the border into Belgium.

 

He had forgotten about the photo by the time they stopped for lunch. He hadn’t forgotten that he needed to buy a ring – something he’d been trying to do for months, spending long hours scrolling through men’s engagement rings online – and plan something romantic as a proposal date. _Maybe I take him back to Mykonos. Or the test track. I can take him to where we first kissed, and propose to him there_.

‘You took a photo of me sleeping,’ Jev tapped the ash off his post-meal cigarette, and held André’s camera up, viewfinder facing him. Jev sounded happy, so André smiled.

‘You looked so peaceful. Beautiful. Like I wanted you in my arms. I couldn’t help myself.’ André put his cigarette in his mouth, inhaling the nicotine as an excuse to stop gushing over Jev.

‘Do you often take pictures of me sleeping?’

‘No. I don’t want a picture of you naked and looking blissed out in my bed to surface if my laptop or phone get stolen. I can’t take the risk of ruining your career.’

Jev grinned and snapped a photo of the viewfinder with his phone. André wondered if he should say something sensible to rein Jev’s enthusiasm in a bit. Instead, he allowed himself a small smile at how cute Jev was when he felt loved, and tapped the ash off the end of his cigarette. ‘I’m taking the risk. I want to take the risk with you.’

He put the camera and his phone down on the table, picking up his smoke. André reached across the table and stroked Jev’s free hand, running his thumb over the back of it. ‘I want to take the risk with you too. Not that we haven’t already. I mean, that shot of you hard when Fisher’s camera crew interrupted us in the driver’s room in New York is all over the Formula E YouTube account. It’s in like three separate videos. I’m pretty sure everyone knows we’re together, and the journos are just too polite to print it. Or they got the same “gay relationships policy” media briefing that we did when you asked Alejandro if we could come out.’

‘Yeah, well, as long as the police in Riyadh don’t know, I don’t care who does. The fans like it anyway. They made us a nickname, and brought posters to Le Mans.’ Jev took a drag, blowing the smoke into the air. ‘Jeandré,’ he said like he was savouring it.

André laughed. ‘You’ve just never been with someone long enough to have a couple’s nickname.’

‘Not true. They called Dan and me “Jevcardo”. Made team-branded banners for us and everything.’

‘Doesn’t have the same ring to it as “Jeandré”.’

‘It didn’t have the same intensity of feelings as I have for you either.’

‘I love you.’ André squeezed Jev’s hand and took a drag, winding up for the question that had been burning itself into his mind since Punta. He wished he’d given in to the urge to buy a ring, even though none of the ones he’d seen had screamed Jev’s name at him. While André was staring at the table centerpiece, Jev replaced his hand in André’s with a little velvet box.

‘I love you too. Happy anniversary.’

‘You remembered the day I mark as our anniversary!’ André pulled his hand back, and opened the box. Inside it was a silver nut that looked like it had been wrenched a lot. _It’s the perfect gift. I wish I had something to give you to mark the day_. He pulled it out, and saw ‘Jeandré’ and the date inscribed on the inside. _Oh wow. You wonderful man. I don’t know what to say. I love it. I love you_. André slipped the ring onto his finger, admiring the way it looked. He allowed himself a full-mouthed smile at Jev, his eyes threatening to well over with the kind of happiness that filled his whole body. ‘Thank you.’

‘MoKo said we should mark a single anniversary. I pick your date to remember as ours.’

‘I pick you.’ The words came out before André really had the chance to stop them. _Fuck, fuck, what if it’s too soon? What if we’re not ready for that yet_. André twisted the ring around his finger.

‘You will call and ask my dad? Ask if he’ll let you have my hand in marriage, I mean.’

 _Definitely not too soon. Definitely too soon to organize something romantic for my sweet, French man-cat. Fuck, what do I say to his dad?_ ‘Are you asking me to marry you?’

‘Were you not asking me to marry you when you said you pick me?’

André took a drag and stubbed the butt out in the ashtray. ‘No.’ He sighed. ‘Yes. I want to, but I didn’t know how to ask. Not after Alejandro told us to tell everyone we were just friends.’

‘Maybe we should be traditional, and ask each other’s parents before we ask each other?’

Jev pulled out his phone, pulled up his dad’s number, and handed it to André. André grinned. He loaded his mum’s number from his recent call history, handed it to Jev, and hit dial on Jev’s phone. André stood up, shaking, and walked out of the café’s street seating. He perched on a nearby chair for stability as Jean-Marie picked up the call.

‘Hi, Jev,’ Jean-Marie said, sounding like he was smiling.

‘It’s not Jev. It’s André.’ _I’m calling to ask you for your son’s hand in marriage, which is why I’m using his phone. It’s complicated_.

‘Ah. Hi, André.’ He sounded confused.

‘I was just calling you…’ he said, fishing for French words that were respectful, but also cordial. ‘May I marry your son, please? I love him very much, and I would like your blessing to make an honest man of him.’

‘Oh, uh…’ Jean-Marie hissed a nervous inhale. _The apple fell close to the tree. His son does exactly the same thing when he’s nervous_. André heard Sylvain’s voice in the background before Jean-Marie said, ‘It’s not Jev, it’s André. He wants our blessing to marry Jev.’

Sylvain squealed. ‘Tell him yes. Jev is so happy with him.’

André fiddled with the knee seam of his jeans while he waited for Sylvain and Jean-Marie to finish their conversation of agitated whispers. ‘Hello, André?’ Jean-Marie said eventually.

‘Yes?’

‘The boss says you can marry Jev, as long as you do it in France. If you want to marry a French champion, you do it in the beautiful country.’

‘Deal. There’s a wine estate in Bordeaux that he pinned to our wedding plans board, so we’ll book that.’

‘You made wedding plans before you asked me?’

‘Oh. No. Yes. It was just a place to share ideas, thoughts, dreams. He wanted relationship goals, so I made a Pinterest board for him. We share it. He…’ _How do I say ‘your son is the fucking gayest twink ever, and wanted to make plans for kinky sex and the century’s gayest wedding’ without offending him?_

Jean-Marie laughed. ‘I’m kidding. We knew he was gay when he was seven and made a wedding planning scrapbook. He put pictures of Pierce Brosnan in a James Bond tux as the groom.’

André chuckled. ‘Thanks for explaining where all the James Bond theme wedding ideas came from. Do you still have it? The scrapbook?’

‘I saved it for his bachelor party.’

‘Good man.’ André paused, pinning the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he twisted the ring around his finger. ‘Thank you for giving us your blessing.’

‘Ah, well.’ André was sure he could hear Jean-Marie shrug in the way that Jev did when he was thinking how to say something nicely. ‘We want him to be happy, and he is with you, so it’s not bad.’

‘Thank you again.’

‘It’s nothing. We’ll see you when Jev next comes for family dinner?’

‘Yes.’

‘Buy him a ring before you come. The boss wants to see it.’

‘I will.’

‘Good boy. See you soon.’ Jean-Marie hung up. André looked up at Jev, who gave him a thumbs up and a giant grin. As he ambled back towards the table, Jev held his hand out. André took it.

‘We’re having dinner with your mum on our way to Stuttgart.’

‘Cool!’ As he sat down across from Jev, André lit a fag to calm his nerves. ‘Your dad is showing off your James Bond wedding plans scrap book at your bachelor party.’

‘Your mum’s eisbein is going to go down a lot easier than reliving the humiliation of that old thing.’

‘Are you insulting my mother’s cooking?’

‘Not at all. I’m looking forward to it. I’m not looking forward to my dad showing the world my childhood crush on the worst of all the Bonds.’

André squeezed Jev’s hand and kissed his knuckles. ‘Don’t worry, my love. I’ll protect you from the ridicule. And then I’ll give you the ultra-glam James Bond wedding of your dreams.’ André walked around to Jev’s side of the table, rested his smoke on the ledge of the ash tray, and got down on one knee. ‘To make it official.’ He winced as he took Jev’s hands, wishing he’d thought to put a napkin between his knee and the hard pavement of the café seating area. _I should’ve planned better. Done this somewhere with grass. Or a carpet_. ‘Jean-Éric Vergne. You make my life better. I didn’t expect to, but now that we’ve been together for a year, I don’t want to live without you. I feel like the world is at peace when you’re in my arms.’ André swallowed. _Cross the line, buddy. You can do it. Take this car to the flag_. ‘Would you do me the honour of being my husband?’

‘Yes. Of course.’ Jev leaned forward and kissed André. He cupped the back of André’s head with his hand as he ran his tongue over André’s lower lip. André let him in, fighting the urge to take him against the nearest wall. The other people in the café applauded their big step.

‘I’m sorry it wasn’t a romantic proposal,’ André said, pressing his forehead against Jev’s.

‘It was the proposal I was expecting from you, to be honest.’ He leaned in to speak into André’s ear. ‘We find a forest with a car park for two and no cops, and celebrate after we pay the tab here, yes?’

‘Oh yes.’ _Yes, a life with you is exactly what I want_.


End file.
